Bipolar disorder means that you can code for 14 hours straight, sleep for 4 hours and feel refreshed ready for another round. You can make art and you can express your thoughts in creative, kinda alien ways.

But here are tradeoffs that make bipolar disorder a disease:
- everyone around you is an enemy
- they’re all acting together to harm you
- nobody understands you
- they all make fun of you
- if I say what I mean, nobody will understand me. I’ll scare them
- I’m extremely aggressive towards everything: people, things, situations, problems. Computer lags so I scream, smash it, throw it out of the window and buy a new overpriced one
- constant uncertainty about whether am I acting right or not

So I have BiPolar and Borderline Personality Disorder and had an interview today. We'll I slept in and missed it. My psychiatrist recently changed my meds to help stabilize me. Now I'm up for 2-3 days before I sleep. I timed it so I would be awake, but ended up falling asleep and woke up a half hour after I was supposed yo be there. I'm so pissed off right now! I've been working my ass of learning to code, buy my own brain is sabotaging me. I just want to be a normal person with a normal job. I love programming because I get to be by myself and work away from customers. I'm so frustrated and feel beat down. I don't know what yo do. 😠😤😡

My mother is a manipulative bitch.

From my childhood, I remember nothing but fear and guilt. When I was 13, she shamed me for my body looking ugly and too feminine. She shamed me for having better vision than her, and that I don’t need to wear glasses.

I had a broken toe once, and she shamed me into admitting it wasn’t in fact broken. After two weeks of pain, she finally got me to the doctor, and x-ray had shown it was in fact broken.

She always made me carry her heavy luggage with her crap to the airport, and once I got hernia. The surgery was needed. After the surgery, they didn’t care, didn’t give me the time to recover, and made me carry her crap again. The second surgery was needed. It was more complex than the first one. Now my body is ruined by those disgusting scars. I hate my body now. It is ruined.

She tried to knock down the door into my room when I was crying and didn’t want to talk.

She screamed at me when I wanted to donate some of my old clothes to charity, the ones I bought with my own money. She is so obsessed with her crap. She hoards it, and she was hoarding it into _my_ room, not hers.

My father is still unknown. She abandoned me as a kid for my grandparents to grow me. I barely saw her till the age of six. Then I grew up with her and my stepdad, and their relationship was all manipulation and guilt. She made him apologize and beg almost every day over the course of thirteen years. They were fighting about their miserable sexual life, lack of her orgasms while I was still a kid. She just didn’t care. Once they decided to talk about their pissing kink right next to me when I was (not in fact) asleep.

When I was raped, she did nothing. She just kept on calling me beautiful and insisting she wanted me to wear mascara, while hating gay people. It was all before I realized my gender identity.

She also didn’t notice I was autistic. She liked it, as it gave her advantage. It’s easy to manipulate an autistic teenager.

After my coming-out, she told me she had cancer, and she wanted to stop treatment in order to “die sooner and not see me”.

But once my bipolar disorder awakened, things changed. Bipolar is my shield. I can be manipulated, yes, but bipolar will obliterate my whole world view once a year, together with your manipulative crap you planted into my life. And because it dismantled a 19-year-long, almost fractal manipulative masterpiece, I fear nothing now.

I disowned her some two years ago.

I’ve been diagnosed with bipolar disorder type II. The age of “unidentified affective disorder is over”.

!rant

I just saw someone write about how much he hates school and it reminded me of all I am about to say:

I go to a fancy private school in my country full of shitheads and idiots that think that they can rely on their parents money for the rest of their lives, are always concerned about the latest trends (yeezys, dabs, fidget spinners... etc) and it just gets on my nerves as I have to live with all that and have almost no friends since I failed my class two years ago, when I sit in school I can't focus on anything the teacher says which in turn contributes to my shit grades and there is nothing I can do about it. I have been diagnosed with persistent depresseive disorderand bouts of major depression and my mom won't accept to give me adequate medication because she says(although this is not always the case) that antidepressants can trigger the bipolar disorder that runs in my family, and on top of all this shit, ever since I was 7 I have been raised by my single mother after my father died (I never tell people that my father is dead usually because I hate the look of pity I get coming out of their faces) and my mother has been screwed over for all her life because she can't make a good decision or call bullshit even if you put a gun to her head.

And what I hate most about all that is that I have no one to talk to because my mom is one of those religious freaks so I can't talk to her about my real deep thoughts, and every psychologist or counselor I have been to has been shit.

And this is just another chronicle of my miserable fucking existence.

Today my therapist suggested I work towards one day getting back the will and energy to start coding side projects, just for the fun of it.

That was a long, long time since I had the ability to do. Maybe I can get back to feeling that much in control that I can let work go for a day or two each week and just... Have fun coding. What a mind-boggling thought.

I have this friend of mine, he was a former course mate and we can call him J.
J called a week ago saying he wanted to come stay with me for a few days and I said no problem buddy come home I'm always around.

When he came around he sounded quite different than the J I used to know. The first thing he said when I opened the door for him was "Do you know God?" and I was like "Hunh... Is that the latest javascript framework?". With my reply I was expecting laughter as a response but seems like buddy is serious.

J: Are you ashamed of him?
Me: What's up man? Jesus ain't coming anytime soon *still joking*.
J: Yes, he is. And we...
Me: Okay. Cut the crap man.

That night was quite long as we argued religious stuff front, back and center. I asked him why he became so religious but his response wasn't really clear. What I could sense from the discussion was "he's in it for the money" because while we were arguing he mentioned that God spoke to him that he would own a Mercedes Benz this year, so for that he created a WhatsApp group luring people to join to receive gospel messages and in turn ask them to sow seeds and make offerings all in the name of God. I was both pissed and perplexed by such an act of selfishness. Why don't you just get a real job, I asked J, and he said the jobs he could find doesn't match his taste :/

The religious argument continued to day 3 and I wasn't feeling it because it has affected my work as I couldn't even concentrate on most task that was supposed to be completed that week. I called him the next day and told him he shouldn't come to my place if he won't boycott the religious arguments we normally have at night because those are my working hours and the arguments wasn't helping matters. I ended the call when I got no response.

Throughout the rest of that day I felt guilt for what I had said to him, maybe there would have been a better way of putting out my reasons to him or atleast allow him arrive home before telling him what I just told him. I felt really bad that night, so the next day I tried to reach so he could come around when he's available but his line wasn't going through.

Few hours later I got a call from another friend we can call E.
--- E: Hey, have you seen J lately.
Me: Yes, he has been with me for few days now.
--- E: Is he there now.
-- Me: No he's not.
--- E: I need to let you know what's up. J isn't feeling okay. He has been with me for quite a while but recently this year he started acting strange. I think he has some mental issues.
-- Me: Mental what?
--- E: Yes. One time he pulled of his shirt running towards the street. I asked him where he was going and he said "they're calling me... they're calling me".
-- Me: That must be serious, I never paid attention I just noticed he was acting too religious.
--- E: Yes man. It took some time before I myself realised what was going on.
--- Me: So what do we do?
--- E: I've spoken to his brother and we also informed the police he was missing, I never knew he was with you.
--- Me: I'll try reaching out if I find him I'll get in touch.
--- E: Okay.

Hanging up the phone, I have never felt so broken in my entire life. All through those time I was arguing with someone in need of help.
How could I not have known. I'm stupid... I'm stupid... I'm stupid! I kept stumping my palm on my head. Shame unto me.
There were moments in our arguments with signs of clear red flags, some things he said wasn't just right but I ignored just to win the arguments. At one point he claimed he was God, at another point he said he doesn't need to work to become rich that money will visit him, he said some really bizarre things if I was observant enough I would have noticed but fuck me I didn't.

Next day, I got a call that he has been found and has been taken to a psychiatric hospital. He was suffering from bipolar disorder. When I got there, he no longer recognises me. This was the same person we both argued few nights ago.
This short experience was devastating for me. I cried like a baby right there in room filled with his family and some other friends.

No one knew why I was crying, it was just me and my guilty conscience. This would have been prevented atleast a little if I had acted differently. I can't hug him now... It's of no use. I can't tell him how great a friend he is and and how much he deserves the world now because it would be useless.

I pray day and night that he gets well soon and I could tell him how sorry I am for not realising he had a condition unknown to me.
I get to visit him twice a week and hope he gets back to the J I've always known, my buddy for life 💑

For anyone reading this:
Sometimes the people around you might look okay from the outside but I promise you there is a lot going in on the inside. Show love to whoever call you their friend and also don't take arguments personally (I failed this test), some people uses arguments to validate theirselves and some might not be as sane as you think.
#ListenMoreSayLess

It's made it possible for me to be self-employed and work from home, which for an introvert with bipolar disorder is the difference between working for a living or being on disability.

Me, or everybody else.
I have bipolar disorder, it’s not entirely a bad thing because sometimes my mind flies and bizarre ideas just flush into my mind, ideas that eventually prove to be useful. However, not everyone can catch up my thinking speed.
This year for my senior capstone project, I teamed up with other three brilliant students. In the middle of the project I proposed a very aggressive method when our initial model failed, but they couldn’t understand my method. Towards the end of the semester I basically finished the project alone and claimed that they were just repeating what I was doing, and they didn’t realize that until the last week. At the end, the guy who’s always in charge of the other two people said that I was right, that the very aggressive method could have worked if given them more time to think about it.
I am both relieved and sorry at that moment. I cannot explain my ideas and that leads to my teams confusion.
I am still the same guy now, haven’t changed, will still be a pain in the ass when work with other people, I tried to be patient, but idk if it was just me being too impatient or others are too dumb.
I really tried......

The main reason I moved from Linux to macOS was that I grew up. If we count not just Linux experiments but prolonged usage, I was an avid Crunchbang fan. After it died, I moved to elementaryos.

What I want to say is, Linux can be very fun and educational when you're still in the uni. You have all the energy in the world, and you can afford to diverge from your daily routine for an hour to debug GPU drivers.
Now, the backbone of my life is keeping a very tight sleep schedule, taking meds on time, avoid infohazards, avoid scrolling on the web, all to remain in a very fragile state of balance that keeps the bipolar disorder away. I'm in the middle of all this, earning derealization (yes, I'm also autistic) every time I design a data model. All I want from my computer is to be treated like a careless, regular user, not like someone with a CS degree.

I use Sublime Merge instead of command line Git. I use Postico to explore PostgreSQL databases, not psql from my terminal. By the way, my terminal is not iTerm, Alacritty or some other such thing, my terminal is whatever came with my Mac, with whatever default settings.

Linux is crawling into a non-street-legal racecar's cockpit and strapping yourself in, ready to blast off. MacOS is your chauffeur, holding your old shaking hand as he helps you into your Maybach's backseat. They're different, and that's okay.
Can Maybach race? Well, it has a 621 HP V12, so if _you_ can race, it probably can too, but we all know it's not a racecar.

Windows? Windows is an SS officer, wearing the all too familiar Windows logo for swastika, throwing you into a gaswagen.

Another one of those success messages, that looks like an error message. feat. MySQL Workbench

The life of a normal person is like waking up every day with a zero on the scale of suffering. You did something good — here are -20 points to that scale. Something bad happened — well, here are +10 points. Being a bipolar person, my life is like beginning every day with +500 suffer points. Every day is a devastating uphill battle to just break even.

Why live then?

You can't win. If you have a healthy sleep schedule, do sports and eat healthy, it's still +500 every day. One mistake like fucking up your sleep schedule — boom, you now start at +700.

In Japan, a new breakthrough in psychiatry is happening as they were able to tie bipolar disorder to a HHV6 herpesvirus messing up the operation of Parkinje cells in human brain, unreachable to the immune system because of blood-brain barrier. A nasal spray treatment is proposed. If successful, bipolar disorder could be cured forever.

Until an actual nasal spray is released, I decided to wait because it's a huge bummer killing myself only some three years before this breakthrough.

But if their experiments will never come to fruition and my conventional therapy will not be successful, I will kill myself.

I don't want to live like this.

Video game. Nothing but a final boss fight right from the start. Boss has infinite health. There is no time limit. If you die in the game, you die in real life.

That's what it's like to live with bipolar disorder.

For the love of god PLEASE keep yourself away from emotional stress and trauma.

I am honestly flattered by the fact that @scor really, unironically thinks that “by the frequency and varsity and depth you post and comment and self imaging”, I can't be a single person, and there is a whole TEAM behind me!

Honestly, I don't care about insults. Neither yours, nor of that schmuck that is salty because he posted some stupid misogynic shit a while ago, I reposted it as a screenshot, and he was obliterated by the community.

I'm only posting this because people out there legitimately think I'm a hive mind. It's not every day that you're told whatever you do cannot be done by one person. To me, this is more of a compliment.

Looking past devRant, I would like to meet @scor and other haters IRL. I have no hard feelings. I'm just an autistic person with bipolar disorder. I post whatever I want, as it's somewhat therapeutic.

You don't have to acknowledge it, but here's an honest, personal message: if you at any point compare yourself to me and lose, remember, my personality and creativity is a negligent, slight payoff for a literal hell that is a mental disorder. My thoughts are thinking themselves. I can't control them. My body is twitching constantly. I'm both actively anxious and always tired. My intellect suffers a massive penalty in a depressive phase, like now.

Finding at least some positive side to that hellscape is absolutely vital, and any person with a disorder can tell you that.

The fact that I'm social, I have friends and a job is a miracle. I'm privileged. I've seen a lot of people less lucky than me. They weren't able to monetize their troubled, sharp brain. I was.

When my brain was overloaded and overwhelmed during rapid-cycling bipolar disorder, my life and my thoughts were a complete mess. Somehow, when I heard or imagined plurals of certain words, like "cans" or "cups", my brain painted pictures of a cute civilization of living soda cans. They fought oppression that came from us humans, but lacked mental capacity to do so. I felt really sorry for them and wanted to help. The more ordinary the word were, the more striking effect it had on me.

The rapid-cycling fashion of bipolar disorder is often triggered by unfit prescription medicines. This kind of disorder is among the most lethal mental disorders there are, with a huge percentage of patients committing suicide.

If you can't make sense of your thoughts, if your emotional responses seem inadequate or too strong, to the point when you can collapse crying after some random thought, stop whatever you're doing and seek help. Ask friends and family to find you a psychiatrist, as by the time you need help, you may lack mental capacity or emotional resource to find a doctor by yourself. To me, even the idea of leaving my bedroom and going somewhere was painful to think about.

If your thoughts appear to be "put into your brain" against your own will, if they make no sense, don't attempt to make sense of them. They are nothing but a random noise produced by overwhelmed synapses.

So this is a long, time sickness i have with the way we are brought up and being counseled in mental ilness. I feel like because i have bipolar disorder, and combat PTSD people are unaware of how debilitating it is to live like this, they just hear the symptoms and have no idea what its like to live with it. So like my wife and parents they are so ignorant to it that its insulting.. Im not toootin my own horn, but from 21-32 i have dont nothing but kill myself in every way i can. or jump headfiurst into addictions just to stop the dark times. I married a women thats become the worst person who has ever crossed my path. I need a helping hand sometimes to keep it together from people that shouldnt ever feel bothered but being honest with them is dissapointing..